


Just a Thought

by WanderingSummerBreeze



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 09:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10241825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingSummerBreeze/pseuds/WanderingSummerBreeze
Summary: I don’t know what this is. I wrote it last night after listening to some mellow tunes & a sipping a little alcohol, (who am I kidding. A lot). I don’t know if it’s a fic, or I pulled up a lawn chair and parked my ass in Heughan’s brain, jotting down his thoughts in my little composition book.





	

It’s like an out of body experience, making love to Caitriona. The way her eyes squeeze shut when I enter her. Or the low arch of her back, as her body begs for more, but can hardly handle the heightened sensations she’s already feeling. The barely-there sweat that dampens her brow or the crease that taints her forehead in concentration.

I live for all these little moments. They somehow seem to stop time, carry on forever, and yet, when they’re over, it’s like they never existed. A dream, that quickly fades in the morning light.

She awoke first this morning, or her body did, needing its fix. Consciousness be damned. I stirred as I felt a hip fall across my waist, then wet heat against my groin, grinding shallowly, as if intoxicated. We use each other’s’ bodies shamelessly and without question. Each granted unequivocal access. I lay still, allowing her to do as she pleases. As her body needs.

Caitriona finds completion against me, with barely an audible sound, and nothing more than a tightened grip to my side to expose her dirty little secret. That is, until I feel the wetness grow, my wiry hair no longer damp, but drenched in her sex. The smell fills the room, and intoxicates my senses.

I’m not here and not there, but somewhere in between, as my body lulls me to complete the necessary, filthy deed of self-indulgence. A necessary execution, if you’re to believe what human nature has taught us. I turn over, yielding to instinct, and acquiesce to my body’s demand.

I float outside my body when I enter her. Her slippery heat, tight as a vice. But still, it pulls me in, envelops me, welcomes me with wet kisses that sheath my manhood. I feel as though I’m in another world, watching myself make love to her. Like I’m in heaven, reliving the most beautiful moments of my life. She’s in them all.

I can feel each sensation, as I watch us from high above. The grip of her thighs around my waist as she pulls her legs up tighter around me. I can see the marks that traverse from my shoulder blades to my buttocks, as she scrapes her nails along my body.

I feel her womb with each thrust, longing to bury my whole being inside her. Curl up inside and never leave. I am a part of her and she of me.

Her head pulls back against the pillow, exposing her naked neck. I want to sink my teeth into her flesh. Drink her down. I want her to be a part of every part of me. I settle for a gentle lapping of her silky skin. The salty sweat tickles my tongue and my lips begin to suck. I pull her skin taught, sucking hard, and in some far-off land, I can hear her soft whimpers, they break my heart, but make me harder.

I’m like steel inside her.  Nothing could bend or break me. I want to plant my seed inside her. I want to see her grow with our child. I want her death-grip on my hand as she gives life to our union. To the perfect blend of her and me. And then I want to do it all over again. I want to feed from her. I want her warm milk to flood my mouth the way I flood hers when she takes me between her lips.

I want to protect her and hold her close. I want to demand she never leave and do only as I wish. Make soft sweet love to her, while cooing with endearments, and then fuck her into oblivion. Make her accept every repulsive thought that has ever hitch-hiked through my mind. I want to command total and utter obedience.

I want her to hold me close to her breast, as I weep of fears, uncertainty, and sorrow. I want her to beat my chest in anger and drag me to my knees, begging her forgiveness. I want to feel her butterfly kisses speckle across my cheeks and eyelids and I want her to squeeze my testicles in possession, showing the world to whom I belong.

My body is on fire next to hers. We ignite a flame that never fizzles, only burns to a slow ember after completion, before bursting, like roman candles, full of fire and light, inside us once more.

The sweat of exertion pools around my lower back. I can feel her fingers dip into it on her path to my rounded cheeks, clawing at my skin. I struggle to keep my eyes open, my own pleasure taking hold. To watch her, would be almost too much to bear. To see her face in the throes of passion is an aphrodisiac all on its own.

I can feel my testicles, full and heavy against her skin, tighten. It’s an electric pleasure, as sparks shoot through my lower body. She meets my thrusts with a rise of her ass, slapping skin on skin. Skin _in_ skin.

Her body is an amusement park. Each ride more thrilling than the last. A roller-coaster of screaming pleasure and fun. Her body is like a temple, to be kept secret. Worship and praise in silence, while you commit your body and soul to her.

My hands caress her body, folding under her ass to bring her closer. I take a nipple between my teeth, biting sharply, biting softly. I pull as much of her breast as I can, into my mouth. The swell of it, too much to take in completely. But they are mine. No other man will have them. No other man will have her. No other woman could touch me. No other woman dare blemish my body with theirs. I am hers. She is mine.

I feel the erotic pain rise within my body, from my toes to my fingertips, and every bit in between. I arch myself, my pelvic bone grating across her most delicious of buttons to push, eager to be swept into the abyss together.

Her fingers dig possessively into my buttocks as her legs tighten around me. She is close, she is with me. I let the flood-gates open, willing the tidal wave to rush forth and carry off into her body. I hang on tight, desperate to not float away. She hangs on tight, desperate to not fall away. We disappear into oblivion as one. One body. One mind. One thought.

All I can feel is wet. My skin. Hers. Our connected bodies. I sink back down into my body and feel my weight heavy against her form. I shift, but not enough to break free.  I cannot bear to part so soon. It’s always too soon. But lives to lead. Work to attend. Money to earn and bathroom breaks in between.

When we finally do part, nature proving its dominance over us once more, there’s a brief mournful moment. That small sliver of time, like a raindrop into a day-old puddle, distorting the peace, shakes you up. Up, until you can curl yourself into her body once more.

She always caresses me afterward. I never do. It’s a Caitriona thing, and I love her more for it. Her hand gently passes over my cheek and jaw. She mourns my loss too, I know. Mourns the fullness I give her, the hollowness of her body like an echo in a cavernous room. Vacant.

I let her stroke me and I hold on. That’s _my_ thing. Holding on. Onto her. Desperate for her heat to warm my cooling body. Desperate for the love I know she gives unsolicited. I feel an intake of breath below my ear and I await the soft sound of her voice, eager to hear her words, but averse to breaking the silence.

“Do you know what you do to me?”

I say not but a word. For my eyes are her mirror. I see all of her, and all of me within her.

Yes. I know. For you do the same to me.


End file.
